Of The Cold Night Air. Some Smoke Lies Curled On Poem by umashankar manthravadi

of the cold night air. some smoke lies curled on
the ground. smoke from cars cigarette ends and
dying windcast candlewicks lies lazy
curled on the ground. dry mistless clear night air
rises above a sleepless twisted world
the cold night air of a more delinquent
time of lies and deceits. I am not good
enough for you. said not as believed truth
but as an offering. I am even
willing to say that for you. no not truth
the blue smoke that unfurls from the grey smoke
curled close to the ground. uncurl my fingers.
nothing derived from the shape of a clenched
hand approximates your warmth. ground upward
the cold night air is mistless, twisted, clear
August 10,1973